I decided to participate in the "Bloggers Silent Poetry Reading" seen on many blogs, originally from Grace's Poppies, even though I'm a day late. My excuse is that I didn't know about it until this morning, and it was already February 3 here by then!

The Drover's Sweetheart
Henry Lawson

An hour before the sun goes down
Behind the ragged boughs,
I go across the little run
And bring the dusty cows;
And once I used to sit and rest
Beneath the fading dome,
For there was one that I loved best
Who'd bring the cattle home.

Our yard is fixed with double bails,
Round one the grass is green,
The bush is growing through the rails,
The spike is rusted in;
And 'twas from there his freckled face
Would turn and smile at me --
He'd milk a dozen in the race
While I was milking three.

I milk eleven cows myself
Where once I milked but four;
I set the dishes on the shelf
And close the dairy door;
And when the glaring sunlight fails
And the fire shines through the cracks,
I climb the broken stockyard rails
And watch the bridle-tracks.

He kissed me twice and once again
And rode across the hill,
The pint-pots and the hobble-chain
I hear them jingling still;
He'll come at night or not at all --
He left in dust and heat,
And when the soft, cool shadows fall
Is the best time to meet.

And he is coming back again,
He wrote to let me know,
The floods were in the Darling then --
It seems so long ago;
He'd come through miles of slush and mud,
And it was weary work,
The creeks were bankers, and the flood
Was forty miles round Bourke.

He said the floods had formed a block,
The plains could not be crossed,
And there was foot-rot in the flock
And hundreds had been lost;
The sheep were falling thick and fast
A hundred miles from town,
And when he reached the line at last
He trucked the remnant down.

And so he'll have to stand the cost;
His luck was always bad,
Instead of making more, he lost
The money that he had;
And how he'll manage, heaven knows
(My eyes are getting dim),
He says -- he says -- he don't -- suppose
I'll want -- to -- marry -- him.

As if I wouldn't take his hand
Without a golden glove --
Oh! Jack, you men won't understand
How much a girl can love.
I long to see his face once more --
Jack's dog! thank God, it's Jack! --
(I never thought I'd faint before)
He's coming -- up -- the track.

I chose this particular poem primarily because I wanted you all to see something Australian. Henry Lawson was an Australian author and poet who lived in rural Australia around the turn of the century. Most of his writings capture the Australian way of life at that time. It's my favourite Lawson poem, one that I learned in High School.
I had thought about posting "My Country" by Dorothea MacKellar, but it's still under copyright, so I'll just link to it here.
"My Country" is a poem that pretty much all Australians know (at least part of it) and as far as I know, all Australian school children learn it or hear it at some point or another. It describes Australia and all the things we love about it, in such beautiful language and descriptiveness. (Is that a word?)

Edited to add:
I'm horrified to say that when I read the poem to Emily, she asked "What's a Drover?" (Link to Wikipedia) If you don't know what a drover is, the link will explain a lot about this poem. I don't expect the non-aussies to know, but what are they teaching the kids in Australian schools? ;)